


Mon Trésor Perdu

by Starshaker



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Confessions, Distrust, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Late Night Conversations, M/M, Minor Injuries, Relationship Discussions, Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-21
Updated: 2017-12-21
Packaged: 2019-02-18 00:42:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13088850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starshaker/pseuds/Starshaker
Summary: Peter turns up in the Argent home in the middle of the night and his only discernable motive is to bring up the past he's shared with Chris.





	Mon Trésor Perdu

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Dexterous_Sinistrous](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dexterous_Sinistrous/gifts).



> Mostly written while listening to “Saturn" by Sleeping At Last

When the alarms triggered in the middle of the night Chris slipped from his bed, gun ready and finds Peter lounging in an armchair in the living room. Alison already has her knives in each hand and is poised for him to make the first move. Chris isn’t surprised that Peter only triggered the alarms once he was already inside. Peter, despite how he is casually reclined in his seat, is covered in blood.Chris couldn’t spot any open or bleeding injuries though he suspected Peter was subtly cradling one arm. 

“He’s not here to hurt us,” Chris said and reached out to lower Alison’s raised weapons, “You can go back to bed,” He said. She glanced up at him and relaxed her stance before without a word turning towards the kitchen instead. He heard the flick of the coffee machine, shortly followed by the muffled thump of the cupboard doors opening. 

“Christopher,” Peter said and stretched out a hand towards him, “It’s good to see me, isn’t it?”

“I’d heard you’d been killed six months ago,” Chris deadpanned.

“I heard something similar about your daughter,” Peter said and nodded towards the kitchen, “I assume tales of my disposition don’t upset you anymore,”

Chris sighed heavily and set his gun on the mantelpiece.

“Well that is interesting,” Peter said.

“I’m assuming you’re here for a reason. Is it that you’ve just survived an attack or are you on your way to another one?” Chris asked

“This?” Peter gestured to the cuts across his shirt, “Merely an inconvenience. But I _was_ in the neighbourhood,”

“You came back, again.” 

“For better or worse,” Peter said and his smile widened,“It was getting to a rather sentimental time of year,” He waved his hand towards the decorations pinned across the ceiling and as he gestured back to Chris he flicked something small in Chris’ direction. Chris snatched it out of the air and when he opened his palm a thin gold band lay in his palm.

“We were just kids.” Chris said. The same phrase he’s used a hundred times before with dozens of people who confronted him with his past. 

“I’ll be the first to admit that it didn’t feel like it at the time,” Peter said and shrugged. Chris only just caught the wince cross Peter’s expression. 

“Not legally binding.” He said and held the ring between his forefinger and thumb.

“If you aren’t interested in pursuing this conversation that can you return my trinket? It holds significant value,” Peter drawled. 

Chris stepped forwards and pressed the ring into Peter’s hand with the flat of his palm. He closed his hand around Peters and pulled it up to his lips. He shut his eyes and pressed a lingering kiss to peter’s fingers. As he let go Peter’s hand closed around the ring and withdrew.

“Interesting,” Peter drawled.

“What the hell?” Alison said. Chris snapped his attention up to the doorway where Alison stood with two mugs of coffee in her hands.

“We have a long and… complicated history,” Chris said as he turned to face Alison, 

“And I haven’t heard about this before because?” Alison asked.

“It would make him sound incredibly hypocritical of where your affections have been directed,” Peter added and Chris felt Peter’s hand withdraw.

“Really?” Allison said incredulously.

“Allison,” Chris started but he couldn’t possibly find the words to justify all the things he hadn’t told her. She set the two coffee’s she’d made down on the side table and grabbed her coat and keys.

“I’m going to stay at Isaac’s for the night. If you can think of a reason why I shouldn’t, text me,” She called back to him as she headed out into the corridor and towards the front door. Chris made it to the doorway to see her pulling her coat on.

“You’ll need your phone for that and I still have it confiscated!” He said though at this point he didn’t know why he bothered.

“Not my problem,” She called back.

“Allison!”

The door slammed behind her and Chris sighed and let his head fall against the doorframe

“Well, now that we’re alone,”

“No. Not now.” Chris looked up and him and shook his head.

Peter hummed and glanced around the room as if to find something of interest. Chris stared at Peter waited for any indication that he was deceiving him. Peter finally returned his gaze to Chris and cocked his head to one side.

“Christopher, isn’t it time to reconsider?”

Chris turned away from Peter towards the corridor and glanced back and nods for him to follow. He didn’t hear Peter’s footsteps behind him but his gut feeling told him that Peter was only a couple of steps behind him. He reaches the last room of the corridor, unlocks it and flicks on the light.

He waited just inside the door until he felt Peter beside him. 

He watched as Peter traced his eyes over all the photocopied pages of old texts that have been taped to the walls. The folders on the desk are four inches thick combined and an external hard drive sat at the back of the desk against the back wall. Peter stepped forward and flicked open the topmost folder.

“I think Allison is dying,” Chris said. Peter continued to glance through the pages he flicked to at random.

“That is what tends to happen when you drag something back to life that shouldn’t exist anymore,” Peter mused.

“You did it.”

“I used a powerful but inexperienced and coercible banshee,” Peter said and looked up at Chris with a pitying glance, “You presumably used someone who you threatened and they asked for something in return,”

“I, I couldn’t-,” Chris started but he couldn’t explain himself. He’d cursed his daughter to this life twice now, with ultimately the same outcome. He stared at the desk. 

“Let me make a call,” Peter turned to leave the room. 

“This isn’t something I can have people in certain circles knowing about,” Chris said and Peter paused

“I know. It’d put a bounty on your head as large as the one on mine. It may surprise you to learn that I do have a few people I can trust nowadays,”

“I need to ask a favour,” Peter started, “Yes. Yes. What do want, a contract in blood?”

Chris could only allow himself to listen to the beginning of Peter’s conversation before he walked away and tried to focus on his breathing. His heartbeat. Anything that wasn’t the sound of Peter calling in favours on his behalf.

Chris dropped back into the sofa and took a drink of the coffee Alison had left behind.

“No. And you can tell Stiles that I’m not the one dying,” Peter snapped and Chris looked up to see him hesitating in the doorway. He ended the call and shoved the phone into his pocket. He crossed the room and Chris dared look up and see he was to be urged into repaying the favour there and then. Peter sat beside him, a foot or so between them, one leg bent on the sofa as he sat facing Chris.

“I’m sure there was a reason you didn’t call in that pack to begin with,” Peter said.

“I haven’t told Isaac about the circumstances, I, they already blame themselves for Alison’s death. I couldn’t do that to them twice,”

“Funnily enough I’ve learnt to trust your instincts,” Peter said. Chris could read Peter’s body language as well as when they were together. The urge to reach out to him and hold him as tightly as he could was gnawing at the back of his mind.

“You’ll let me break your secret to the world through,” Peter said after a moment.

“I don’t need to pretend that you’re ruthlessly resourceful,” Chris said.

“Well we can’t let things like pesky morals get in the way when we’ve already brought someone back from the dead,” Peter said and levelled Chris with a look, “Besides, it’s almost Christmas,” He said and half shrugged.

“We both know your romantic gestures were always resoundingly hollow,”

“Don’t be cruel, I thought we were making up,” Peter said with a mock sullen expression as he leant forwards into Chris’ space, “And I was always the more romantic,” He dropped his voice and Chris had to dig his nails into the arm of the chair to stop from leaning in a meaning him.

“Since you’re fishing for something, you do still owe me a breakfast or two,”

“This is news to me, but I’ll concede,” Peter said and sat back up shrugging. His blase expression renewed. “Would you prefer me to cook or pay? My abilities are significantly improved since I last attempted either for you,”

“You can pay,” Chris said. He could only imagine Allison’s reaction if she came home to Peter making himself at home in their kitchen. “There’s a cafe round the corner that opens from five,”

“It’s only four,” Peter said he eyes never stayed from Chris.

“You might have healed by then, and you’ll need a jacket that isn’t bloodstained,” Chris nodded to Peter’s 

“Have you anything I could borrow?” Peter asked. Chris smiled into his coffee and shook his head, his eyes trained to the floor.

 

The owner of the cafe was unsurprised to see Chris arrive at only five minutes past five. She greeted him pleasently and then cokced her head to one side and eyed Peter who followed not a step behind him. 

Chris gestured for his normal ordered to be doubled and took a seat towards the rear of the cafe. Peter slid into the seat opposite him.

“If I guess your regular order will I be correct,” Peter asked and he felt Peter’s leg pressing against his own under the table. 

“The familiarity is reassuring,” Chris said with a half shrug. Their coffee was set down on the table and both men thanked the server.

“Yes it is,” Peter said as he sipped his coffee and stared at Chris over the rim of the cup.

“I tend to walk down along the river after breakfast too, if you’d like to join me,”

“When do you expect me to start saying no?”

“When either of our phones ring,” Chris said dismissively and then immediately regretting his words. 

“Well then,” Peter pulled his phone from his pocket and held it out across the table as he pressed the power button until the device began shutting down. When the screen faded to black he set his phone down and caught Chris’ hand where it rested on the table. “I don’t intend to walk away just yet,” 

 

Their conversation in the cafe had covered the milestones of their lives had led them over the course of the past few years and Chris found himself laughing at the tidbits of anecdotes Peter volunteered. By the time they left, every other table in the cafe was full and the queue stretched to the door. 

The air was crisp and refreshing as they walked in companionable silence along the path aside the river. After a couple of miles, they turned towards the railing to look out across the river. The dawn light turned the river into molten gold. They leant against the railing side by side and Chris could feel Peter’s warmth through the fabric where their upper arms were pressed close.

“I know you don’t expect me to stay for long,” Peter started.

“Don’t go yet,” Chris interrupted him and Peter halted in his tracks. Chris didn’t look at him, choosing instead to keep his eyes on the horizon. “Not unless you've got somewhere else you _want_ to be.” Chris turned back in time to watch as a smile grew across Peter’s face.

“My dear Christopher, I was hoping you’d say that,”


End file.
